Expectations
by LittleTortillaDaddy
Summary: Katara knows better than to expect any kindness from her wife even on their wedding night.


Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Avatar: The Last Airbender' nor am I profiting from this'.

Pairing(s): Azula/Katara.

Prompt: first time with the additional theme of forced marriage.

Rating: Mature.

Warning(s): None.

Word Count: 1,068.

* * *

Azula forces her elderly advisors, Lo and Li to prepare her. Katara hears them discussing their previous banishment, her hideous temperament, and hopefulness she can change her attitude. Neither sister directly acknowledges her aside from giving her orders: bend forwards, crouch, and twist, please. One sister spins her hair into a braid so tight it yanks on her scalp while the other one assists her into the chosen dress: a simple sleeveless red gown with a zipper running up the back. Its simple but the material is shockingly smooth beneath her hands.

Her mother should be helping her get ready. Her clothing and hair are completely wrong. Lo and Li assess her and give each other a nod.

"Princess Azula will be pleased with our work," they agree. "Would you like an escort?"

A family wields lanterns and guides the newlyweds to the consummation tent. Her father is gone somewhere – home, she hopes. Sokka is finally taking over their father's place. She doubts Gran-Gran would ever approve this marriage, no matter the circumstances. Azula refers to their tradition as childish and reminds her that she no longer belongs to the water tribe.

Katara runs her hand over the gown and fixes a non-existent wrinkle, "I thank you for offering, but Azula requests I become more independent. It is my duty as her wife."

Their deeply wrinkled faces remain impassive, and she wishes once more that she could receive some – any comfort.

* * *

Azula is undeniably beautiful along with her arrogant, cruel, and increasingly disturbing behavior. Her formal clothing only enhances these characteristics and reminds any onlooker that she holds complete power. Tonight, her clothing is far simpler but gives the same impression.

A creamy white robe hangs loosely around her shoulders. Her hair is down a rarity, even in these 'vulnerable' moments. Katara hovers in the doorway and allows herself a moment of admiration. Her moment is admiration is brief, though. Azula gives her a quick up and down glance and shrugs.

"I must compliment Lo and Li," she says. "Their work proves as decent as ever. Now please disrobe and climb onto the bed."

Katara contemplates envying their bed for its grandness if only to take her mind off the nerves squeezing her stomach. Its designer has burned symbols into the poster frame. Tonight, their bedspread is colored charcoal. Were this a different night, was she alone then she would take the time to feel the material and marvel at something light, something that isn't fur. But she isn't, and Azula is watching her with an increasing impatience.

Katara pulls her braid over her shoulder and tilts her neck forward, "I require help disrobing."

A snide remark and huffy sigh never come. Azula tugs her zipper until she can successfully reach back and pull it down herself. It settles against her tailbone and the dress comes off with a series of shrugs.

Azula does the admiring now, and she takes more than just a moment. Her childhood teachings on maintaining dignity and pride now feel useless. Covering herself will only earn a later punishment. It's not that she carries or holds shame over her appearance.

Training and living on the run gave her little choice on her appearance. Eating regularly had finally moved her body weight into the healthy range and daily training allowed her to keep her muscle. However, being openly admired and watched as she climbs upon a bed is different than lacking shame or self-consciousness. Even upon the bed, she keeps her knees close together rather than completely open or closed.

Azula shrugs from her robe but gives her no time to admire, climbing onto the bed and pulling her face towards her. Katara scans her face, searching for nerves or discomfort, any weaknesses. But she finds only impatience and allows herself to be kissed. Her mouth is dry and tastes like some fancy wine she cannot name. Her kiss is demanding, impolite, and intrusive but then when has she ever been any of those things before?

Asking she slow down or pushing her away will likely just cause more frustration and even more withheld affection, a rare occurrence to begin with. Attempting to keep up with her hurried kisses proves more difficult, less pleasurable, but it means avoiding any fights and punishments.

Besides her hurried kisses prove short-lived. Azula pulls away and flashes her a cruel grin before sinking down once more and this time mashing their lips together. Fancy wine does nothing to cover teeth digging into her lower lip, digging and scraping until she finally draws blood. Katara barely has time to register the sting before her tongue darts forward, lapping up the warmth before it can trickle away down her chin.

Azula completes her act with a sigh and serpent-like smile. Katara ignores the burning in her scalp, reciting the past Avatars names in her head while she moves down her neck. Her fingertips are warm and tingle with an awful promise: fight this and receive a shock.

Azula reserves a hand for herself which she runs over her breasts, and she hears that buzz again and again. Her body reacts positively with every tickle, lick, and shock. Azula sighs and rolls her neck back and forth like someone has just gifted her with the loveliest neck massage. Her hips swivel and grind into the mattress. Her eyes appear glazed over and her voice is thick when she speaks again.

"A princess was expected to remain pure, but my mother encouraged exploration, so her children are neither frightened nor clueless upon their wedding night. I always found this was the most enjoyable."

Her people never discouraged exploration. However, her mother never really got a chance to explain before her death. Her father preferred avoiding the subject with her and Gran-Gran preferred she learn on her own.

"I only basic things," she admits. "I forced Gran-Gran to explain that much and stole a few books from the library."

Her eyebrows arch, and is that impression over her admission to stealing? Her expression should develop into a sneer but settles into a smirk. Azula moves from her neck towards her face, stroking her cheek with the back of her hand, her first show of gentleness.

"I enjoy beginners," she coos. "I'll have such fun teaching you."

Katara receives no warning as her face begins to burn. But then what did she expect?

* * *

I would enjoy writing more on this forced marriage and slow but have far too many works in progress as it is. However, the bunnies are jumping around should I ever choose to wrangle them.


End file.
